


Mother by Love

by pure_imagination (a_certain_enthusiasm)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, The Giver Series - Lois Lowry
Genre: Crossover, Dystopia, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-01 07:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_certain_enthusiasm/pseuds/pure_imagination
Summary: For residents of the Community, the process of receiving a child is clean, calm, and mostly predictable: After receiving a spouse, residents can apply for a child in three years' time. Once their request is honored (often several years after the application is initially sent), the couple receives a child to raise as their own at the next Naming Ceremony.In the case of Rachel and James, however, the process was none of the above. And it all began when one of them forgot one little thing.





	Mother by Love

The first thing Rachel noticed was the quiet. 

She heard no sign that anyone else was in the room - not her spouse's soft snoring beside her, nor his footsteps crossing parts of the room as he got himself ready for the day ahead. Just her own light breathing as she lay in bed, alone.

Her breaths began to grow ever so slightly faster. Usually she was the one to wake up first. James usually slept until she woke him up once she had dressed for the day. Was something wrong?

_You're scared,_ she said to herself, describing her emotions using the first word that came to mind. 

_No, that's not it. Maybe...concerned? Yes, concerned._ "Concerned" was far more precise.

Now slightly calmer, Rachel opened her eyes.

The room looked brighter than it normally was when she would first awaken. Not that much brighter, but there was a definite difference. Almost like she had awakened some time later than usual.

She sat bolt upright, throwing off the blanket and virtually rolling off the bed in her haste. Landing right on her feet, she rushed behind the screen in front of the closet, hurriedly changing into her day wear and tying her dark hair into her usual bun before rushing out the door to the main room.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asked the moment she saw her spouse setting two trays of food on the table in the center of the room. As soon as the words came out, she realized the impoliteness of the question. "I apologize for my rudeness."

"I accept your apology." The exchange was habit, ingrained in the two of them since childhood. "I thought you would prefer to rest for a short time longer. You did stay up fairly late last night."

Rachel sat down at the table and opened up her tray. "I probably shouldn't have done that, but I had some charts to finish up last night that I didn't complete at the clinic." Rachel worked as a Doctor, mostly conducting annual checkups or helping with various clinical studies, but occasionally tending to another resident's illness or injury. 

She glanced down at the food on the tray. A bowl of fruit - grapes and various berries - and a small box of almonds. "I'll go first. With the Dream-telling." Each morning, all Community residents Three and older would share their dreams from the night before with their family unit or with one or two of their colleagues. After Rachel and James had been assigned to each other four Ceremonies earlier, the two found that they preferred to share with each other instead of looking for a colleague in the House of Childless Adults to share their dreams with every morning.

She related her dream quickly, since she was running late already. The dream itself had been simple, showing her a day when the clinic was empty of all - no patients, no other staff - except for her. She had awakened the moment she remembered in the dream that that day was the day of the annual Ceremonies.

"Thank you for your dream," James said in reply. Like the apology, this response was a deep-rooted habit for both of them.

He then began to describe his own dream: "My dream was a bit...strange.

"Both of us were in the dream, and we were at the edge of the Community. I don't quite know why the dream was situated there, since I do not remember ever going that far."

"I was in your dream last night?" Rachel asked. Unless it indicated Stirrings, it was quite unusual for another person to feature in anyone's dream. "Are you sure you took your pill yesterday?"

_Twice already? _"I apologize for my rudeness."

"I accept your apology. And yes, I do remember taking it yesterday morning." 

James continued relating his dream: "Suddenly, both of us fell off the edge. You held on to me, and as the dream progressed, I noticed that we were slowing down the further down we fell. We landed lightly at the bottom, and after you let go of me, I saw that you had... _expanded_  quite a bit."

Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion. How would she expand? She already had a larger frame than many of the other females in the Community. Pointing out Difference, though, was considered rude in the Community, so very few had ever said anything about it. However, her mother had been one of those few, a long time ago, when she had said that if it weren't for her exemplary performance in school, she would have made an ideal Birthmother.

Maybe, in her spouse's dream, she had expanded the way the Birthmothers did when they were with child.

But how -  _why_  - would she ever become that way?

"I woke up shortly after that, before anything else occurred," James finished.

"Thank you for your dream," Rachel replied.  _That was only a dream, nothing more,_ she told herself.

_So why does it still unsettle me?_

She took a few bites of fruit before glancing up at the clock. The digital display read 7:44 - over an hour after sunrise, and only sixteen minutes before her shift would begin.

She stood up from her chair and pushed it in under the table. "I'll see you when I come back," she said as she walked to the main door and opened it up. As she walked out of the apartment, she picked up the charts she had finished the night before from a nearby shelf.  _I wouldn't want to forget anything on the way out._

Yet, even as she left the House and rode her bicycle to the clinic as quickly as it could carry her, she hadn’t yet realized that she had already forgotten one very important thing.


End file.
